


Tolerable At Best

by DelilahMcMuffin



Series: Randoms - A Series of Random Prompts [38]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Being read for filth by an infant, David Rose is a Good Person, David isn't good with kids, Jukebox Prompt, M/M, Patrick Brewer is a Troll, but not really, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28707297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahMcMuffin/pseuds/DelilahMcMuffin
Summary: Patrick gives guitar lessons in their home. One day, he's running late and David is left to entertain a student while they wait for Patrick. It goes about as well as you'd expect.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Randoms - A Series of Random Prompts [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556491
Comments: 19
Kudos: 205





	Tolerable At Best

**Author's Note:**

  * For [schittyfic (sixtysevenlmpala)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/gifts).



> Thanks to schittyfic (sixtysevenImpala) for the prompt!

Patrick is late and the doorbell is ringing and David has to leave his unmentionables to soak in the laundry sink. As he hurries to the door, he sets a timer on his phone because he knows from experience that soaking them for too long, even in the most delicate of detergents, can cause the lace to stretch. 

He tucks his phone back into his pocket and pulls open the door. He doesn’t notice anyone immediately, until the quiet clearing of a throat drags his eyes down. There is a small person on his doorstep. A rather unhappy-looking small person with a very large guitar case in it’s hand. 

“Um. Hi,” David says.

“Hello,” the small person replies.

“What, um...what do you want?”

“I’m here for my lesson with Mr. Patrick.” The small person holds up its guitar case.

“Oh. Well. He’s, um, he’s still at work.”

“I know. He texted me. He said I should come over and that you’d let me wait inside.”

 _Oh did he?_ David narrows his eyes, on the verge of asking the small person to produce its phone as evidence. Patrick _knows_ how David feels about small people. 

But then his own phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out to see a text from his husband.

 **_Patrick:_ ** _Running late. Kyle should be there soon for his lesson. Please be nice to him until I get there._

“Ugh,” David mutters under his breath. He looks back at the small person. “I suppose you’re Kyle?”

“You suppose correctly,” Kyle replies. “Can I come in? It’s rude to keep people waiting on your doorstep. And it’s wasteful to keep your door open. You’re letting out all the heat.”

A withering retort is poised on the tip of David’s tongue. But then he remembers Patrick’s text. _Be nice to him._ It’s just like his husband to saddle him with two things he hates the most on the same afternoon—being nice and children. David especially hates being nice _to_ children. It just doesn’t come naturally to him, like it does to Patrick. 

“Well come in then,” David says in his most magnanimous tone, a sweeping gesture inviting Kyle into his home. “You can sit—” He pauses, giving Kyle a once-over. He looks fairly clean. No mud. No grass stains. He’s not dripping with sweat and none of his facial orifices are leaking snot. So it’s probably safe to let him sit in the living room. “—here.” He points to Patrick’s armchair. He’s not an idiot. It’s not like he’s going to let a stranger, let alone a _child_ sit on his gorgeous new couch. “So, um, do you like playing the guitar?” he ventures to ask.

Kyle rolls his eyes. “No. But my mom says I need to have _‘marketable skills’_ to add to my resume, and since I refuse to play sports, theatre and music are really my only alternatives.”

Well. That was...not at all what David expected him to say. It does sound familiar, though. In fact, it sounds a lot like the kind of thing his mother had said to him time and time again, in preparation for his time on the _Little Mister_ Pageant circuit. He’d hated tap dancing, but his mother had insisted.

“Mmm. Yes. Well, that may well be. But, um, how...are you...are the lessons, good, at least?”

Kyle glances appraisingly at him. “Are you asking if Mr. Patrick is a good teacher?”

David supposes he is. “I suppose I am.”

Kyle shrugs his skinny little shoulders. “I guess so. I mean, he knows it’s not my favourite, but he at least makes learning it feel less like a chore. He’s nice.”

That makes David smile. “He is very nice.”

“You’re not, though,” Kyle goes on and David scoffs at his audacity. It’s not as if he’s wrong. It’s just…

“You don’t even know me!” he finds himself huffing at this small person who hates guitar but thinks his husband is nice.

Kyle shrugs again, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “If you were nice, Mr. Patrick wouldn’t have married you. Two nice people together is disgusting.”

“Um, you’re like, four years old. You don’t know that.”

“I’m eleven. And yes I do.”

Before David can ask how this small but very judgy, guitar-hating infant can possibly know that, the front door bursts open and Patrick steps into the foyer. “Hey guys!” He smiles broadly at David and Kyle before bending to unlace the mountaineering shoes that David has never had the heart to make him get rid of. “Sorry I’m late Kyle. I hope David was good company while you waited?”

“Tolerable at best,” Kyle says haughtily as he picks up his case and heads through the house _as if he fucking owns it_ toward the study down the hall that Patrick uses for his lessons. 

Again, David would be offended if he wasn’t in one hundred percent agreement with the little shit. 

“Thanks for hanging out with him, babe,” Patrick says. David looks over at his husband, who grins broadly at him, his eyes dancing with mischief.

David narrows his eyes and lets out a haughty harrumph before turning on his heel and heading back to the laundry room. 

Kyle was wrong. His husband isn’t nice at all. He’s the worst.

David loves him so fucking much.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> As always, I invite you to leave a comment or kudos if you liked what you read here! And then come and say hi on Tumblr @delilah-mcmuffin or on Twitter @DelilahMcMuffin.
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> D McM


End file.
